It is a bit of a juxtoposition to compare riding on the beach in Wales, astride mammoth like Irish Cobs, to flying along La Playa de Muerte on fleet footed Mexican horses, and yet I am going to do so any way.

A few years back my mom and I attempted to fulfill her lifelong dream of riding on the beach, which we technically did. But it wasn’t quite what we had in mind. It was raining and we had been planning on surfing (if you are wondering who in their right mind think of surfing in march in Wales, it’s my dad) but the rain was like little frozen needles and the surf was crashing right onto the beach, which made us cringe so we nixed that idea. As we were driving back to Tenby we saw two people working out their thoroughbreds on the beach. Long, graceful, fast horses and a light bulb turned on, we could go riding!

We found a little place and mounted up on to rather fat horses along with about thirty other people. It was already starting to look like not quite the ideal ride but we were feeling optimistic. We wove our way through the hills down to a small cove, and I mean small. We rode in circles for the next hour or so; it was like being on a carousel. My horses’ hooves through mud at my moms face the whole time and we couldn’t ever get her horse to pass mine. We tried once and failed. Like I said not the fairytale ride along the beach.

Two days ago I swung into the saddle of a small bay gelding named Chappo. (The Spanish word equivalent to, Jiminy Cricket). My mom sat astride a beautiful dapple gray mare, Milagro. Milagro means miracle in English an appropriate name for this spunky little mare. When she was just six days old she was attacked by a pack of dogs, her mother was unable to protect her because she was tied and the little filly almost didn’t survive the ordeal. Her neck was covered in lumpy scares only noticeable if you touched her.

We clopped our way down a dusty road and out onto the beach. The pacific was a stunning deep blue, and dolphins greeted us with their acrobatics. There could not have been a more perfect day for riding. Our horses were impressive, the sand was deep and we could feel their legs plunge into the sand when we galloped, and yet they remained willing steeds and ran for us time and time again. I believe they enjoyed being out as much as we did.

I discovered early on that Chappo was not particularly fast at the get go, unlike Milagro who took off like a bullet. (We had been told that she often raced in, and won the local vaquero races in Todos Santos. I suppose it was only fair that my mom got the race horse after her lumbering beast in Wales, after all it was her dream). However I Chappo had a little more finesse in him and he could run harder longer than she could and I managed to win one of our many races that day. And to my mothers horror it was the one race that we caught on camera.

It’s hard to explain the feeling of freedom and exhilaration I get when riding horses. It is simply one of those things you have to experience for yourself. It may seem a little cliché but having the wind whip through my hair, and feel the muscles of a powerful animal ripple below me is my heaven on earth.

Chappo will be a horse who’s memory I will always hold close to my heart. I don’t know for sure (you would have to ask her yourself) but I bet that my mom feels the same way.

The colors of the rainbow were strung out before me in the form of sea kayaks and the tranquil water of the Sea of Cortez threw sunlight in every direction. I sat quietly in El Diablo Azul steering only with my foot pedals as I watched the coast of La Isla de Espiritu Santo float by. It was one of those moments where I felt at peace in the core of my being, one of those moments where I was immeasurably happy to be alive.

I found that sea kayaking often put me into that space, especially when I was somewhat apart from the group. Every once in a while I find something that paints my life in new and vibrant colors. Reminding me that I love the people around me. That I find joy in experiencing new things, new places and people, but most importantly that I value myself as a person. All the trash that builds up in my consciousness about what I think is important just gets erased. In this case it was literally washed away by the sea, and all that was left were the things I truly value in my life.

Like, who am I being today? Am I expressing compassion, integrity, humility, curiosity, and joy? Have I put myself on my growing edge? What am I focusing on today, the petty or the important? Or am I allowing the vortex of useless thoughts to flow unmonitored through my mind?

Paddling my kayak through gentle swells, in and out of harbors, with the hot sun searing my shoulders and making the cockpit of my boat into a sweltering, rank, sauna could have been monotonous. Instead it reminded me that there are no ordinary moments. Fish teemed below me, darting in and out of the coral formations. Ospreys screamed overhead and seagulls honked in an offended tone when I got too close. Manta Rays could sometimes be seen leaping out of the water, and always there was a friendly face nearby lost in his or hers own thoughts as they too navigated the sea.

However the times I was too far out to see the fish or for the birds to fly overhead and no big mysterious creatures were jumping out of the depths, those moments too held their grace and peace. I am learning that life doesn’t have to be moving at a rapid pace to be beautiful. I am content with sitting in my kayak and being lulled by the gentle rock of the ocean. Both literally and figuratively.

I hope to remember now that I have been thrust back into the shark tank of technology that life is complete, gratifying and beautiful at a slow pace. I hope to remember that I can be content drifting along in a kayak. I am not letting life pass me by. I am simply changing the lens through which I view it. I much prefer this alternate view, it seems to capture more of the complete picture. Presenting me with a clearer and more illuminated final product.

Despite some similarities, I’ve been learning that surfing and snowboarding are really nothing alike.
Having a wave come roaring at me like a freight train with an attitude is just not the same as deciding it’s time to stand up and make my way down a pleasant, snow covered slope.Think about this: I did some calculations with our physics teacher and he and I determined that on average, the waves we were in were about 1500 cfs or cubic feet moving by any given point per second. Each cubic foot weights 64 pounds! That is a lot of force headed at a small and insignificant person (like me) clutching a surfboard.

Unlike snowboarding where you get to ride a lift up to the top of the mountain, you have to work to get out to the waves. It’s no small matter to battle the tide pulling your body in every which direction, drag your surfboard, not swallow a gallon of ocean water, AND make your way out into the surf. Waves have a tendency of breaking on top of my head and sweeping me back ten to fifteen feet. It is quite the process.

It was actually pretty simple to catch a wave once I was out there and committed to it. The hard part was standing up. White, frothy, angry ocean tumbled around me on every side, and the thought of uprooting my balance seemed slightly suicidal. My surfboard wobbled under me as I tentatively thrust leading foot forward.
(For me it’s my left, another similarity between surfing and snowboarding). Then, with gritted teeth and a prayer resting on my chapped and salty lips, I inched my second foot forward and into position. Keep in mind, my hands are still firmly clamped to the board, my knuckles white. It felt like wrenching a child away from its mother when I let go – terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

If I was lucky I got to ride the wave all the way into the shallows, feeling like a knight in shining armor, come back from slaying the dragon. However if I wasn’t so lucky, I realized I was a goner and gave myself up to the wave as it enveloped me. It thrust me down in a melee of sand and frustration. And just when I thought the ride was finally over and I would be graced with sunshine and oxygen once more, my leash would go taught as my board got claimed by the surf. And off I would go again, bumping my way along the sand, until finally, blessedly, I would come to a stop. I poked my head out of the water and peered through the mat of tangled gnarled hair hanging in front of my eyes to see if anyone saw that.To my relief I realized that half my friends had just experienced the same thing.
And yet we trudged our way back out into deeper water, with the hopes that maybe the next ride would be better. We were as persistent as salmon.

Surfing does that to you. It throws you around, half drowns you, fills your eyes with salt, and simultaneously enchants you. Those 30 seconds of glory are alluring, and I headed out time and time again, determined to catch that perfect wave. Lucky for me the ocean was complying and sent that wave my way.

It was the last wave of the day, and I wanted to catch just one decent one into shore. I could see a swell coming in off the point, and so I directed my board towards the beach and began to slowly paddle, glancing over my shoulder every so often to see if it was coming. I was slightly confused when my board began moving on its own. The water around me was still green. The wave had yet to break and I was on it, in perfect position to get that perfect wave.
I stood up with out even thinking about it and glanced over at Ryan to see if he was experiencing the same wonderful thing I was. He too was up. Miraculously we managed to stay on the wave as it broke around us. Our immediate landscape changed from green to white. As the nose of my board dug into the sand on shore I could not have been happier. I had caught my perfect wave! Exhilaration doesn’t quite encapsulate how I felt. I was bubbling, full of joy and laughter.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the ocean has a business plan: It dishes out just enough excitement and joy to get its customers to come back time and time again seeking that wave.

In just over 12 hours from now we (The Link School) are going to be stuffing our sleepy bodies into the yukons and carting ourselves off to Mexico! Watch out Baja here we come! We are stoked for the next two weeks of Surfing, Hiking, Sea Kayaking and over all shananaginizing in the sun. It was last February that the first group of Link students headed down to Peru for the winter and this new group is no less excited for Mexico.

I can’t help but smile every time I think about our trip. I LOVE traveling. It is so much a part of me. Nothing else is as amazing as immersing myself in a foreign culture. I continually find that they are colorful, lively and intricate beyond anything I could have ever imagined. I have experienced so much love from people all around the world. Their smiles light up my life. I have been to Baja once before, but it was the northern state.This time we are headed down to a small quirky village right on the ocean front called Todos Santos, in Baja Sur. I am so looking forward to testing out my botchy Spanish skills and eating the local cuisine.

The first few days down in Baja we are going to be surfing on the Pacific side of the Peninsula. Then we are going to hike the Sierra de la Laguna range from the the Pacific to the Sea of Cortez. Our trek is going to enclude over 10,000 feet of climbing and 40 miles of dusty desert trails. Although the trek is going to be fantastic I am especially excited for what follows. We are going to go sea kayaking for a few days on the Sea of Cortez. There should be opportunities for snorkeling, and I personally plan on riding a sea turtle during one of these escapades. This is something I have wanted to do since my family took a trip to the Galapagos a number of year ago and both my dad and my aunt hitched a ride on one of those wonderfully green beasties.

Well I am off to finish packing “The Cube.” As Gary (one of my professors) so aptly named my duffel bag. It has traveled far and wide and now I have another country name to add to its long and happy history.

*If you feel so inspired as to follow our trip. Feel free to check out our group blog.

I live my life in widening orbits
that reach out across the world.
I may not complete this last one
but I give myself to it.

I circle around God, around the primordial tower.
I’ve been circling for thousands of years
and I still don’t know: am I a falcon,
a storm, or a great song?

~ Ranier Maria Rilke ~

A new fad is sweeping over the world in the form of crops and cartoon animals that you can grow and harvest. Millions of people or logging on to FarmVille every day. A real time farm game created by Zanga, the game allows members to plant, grow, and harvest virtual crops as well as trees and livestock. It is the most popular game on facebook with 63.7 million active users as of November 9th.

I must admit I caved early on and am one of those 63.7 million people. You too can become one of the millions of FarmVille addicts.

http://www.farmville.com/

http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1940668,00.html

I have been hearing quite a bit of uproar around water rights in the last couple of days, and it has sparked my interest. I have been exploring the question, “Is water a human right or a commodity to be bought and sold?”

I am a firm believer that water is a human right, but that we have an obligation to keep it a clean and renewable resource. Nestle has recently opened up a water bottling plant 30 miles south of where I live on the Arkansas river, and I am not happy about this.

These are a few links that I found interesting regarding water. Some specifically address Nestle and others explore water issues around the world.

http://features.csmonitor.com/environment/2009/10/22/pressure-builds-over-bottled-water/

http://www.flowthefilm.com/aboutwater

** I highly suggest that you watch the film “Flow.” It has changed my perspective on water.

http://salidacitizen.com/2009/01/nestle-waters-in-chaffee-county/

http://www.nestlewatersissues.com/

**To be fair I added a website sponsored by Nestle and their responses to why their is so much waste from their products.

http://blog.replyforall.com/

Life Pulses
Swelling, receding, flowing through time.
Crashing over humanities delicate balances
The repose that is never complete.
We are lapping at the brink of eternity.
The whole earth which we inhabit is but a point in space
Delicately rippling on the surface of God’s great seas.

Wow. It has been a full two weeks. It’s all starting to catch up to me right now. A menagerie of long days, collages, friends, rain, trains, bare feet splashing through puddles, exploding toilets, fear, disappointments, laughter, mood boards, chai bought in the nearby Au Bon Pan, the occasional tear, and lots of thinking. Lots of wondering.

Do you ever feel like…uh okay, what am I doing?! Why have I decided to do this? Or what the heck just made me do that? Why, why, why?!?! I wish at times that I could just turn of my brain. Make all those loud clamoring thoughts just go away and be silent. That would be amazing. I would pay to be able to quite my mind with a moments notice. As it is though, I can not. Disappointing I know. This contemplative mood that has settled over me may have something to do with my surroundings. Just an observation….

I am sitting on the third floor of a beautiful building watching the rain poor down outside into the city. Boston is sprawled before me, shrouded in overbearing clouds. They have been hovering over the city like some hungry leering animal, unrelenting and dull. I see splashes of color here and there, the pink of an umbrella, a tricycle abandoned on a porch, a vibrant blue scarf peeking out below a black trench coat. But all in all things are gray and sad. Every one keeps telling me that Boston isn’t usually like this, and they swear that it will get better. I feel skeptical at this point, or at the very least politely reserved. After two weeks of rain I am not sure that the sun is ever going to show it self again. My skin for one is putting up a protest, I swear I get paler by the day. I keep wearing bright cheery summery colors and clothes, in the vain hope that I can coax the sun into appearing. It’s not working and the thick, windproof patagonia fleece I have stored in my bag, has been making regular appearances.

I fly out of the city of rain on Friday, early in the morning. Back to things that I love, back to the familiar. Back home. I don’t know if this is what I should be doing. I don’t know that I am supposed to be leaving. But when do we ever know, I mean really know, what is is we are supposed to do with ourselves? I often feel confused about it any way. It would save so much time and stress if God just spelled it out for me, wrote it down on a nice little note and dropped it into my lap. “Dear Jess, I want you to be here ____________. This ________ is exactly what I want you to be doing. Thank you for complying with my wishes. Lovingly God.” Sadly I have never had this happen. I have been condemned like all the rest of mankind to wallow through my thoughts, picking through all the junk seeking some nugget of crystalline understanding. That ah ha, moment. Life can be confusing can’t it? But what can we do other than smile, nod and get on with it. I don’t say that nonchalantly. That really is all we can do. Smile, trust, pray and know that where we are is our right place. So home I go. Good bye rainy city.

I don’t care for fairy tales
can you keep me from dreaming
from falling hopelessly
into the world of colors
break down these walls around me
that keep the reality at bay
allow the high tide to rise up
rolling in on waves of hope
washing in the pleasure, pain, sorrow, joy
spilled out on the glimmering beach sand
now tarnished by the emotions
of thousands of souls
dumped there to rot away
left for the gulls to pick through
the receding salt water, leaves the land
exposed naked, for all the world to see
unprotected, all hypocrisy gone
break down these walls
rip away the fairy tale
embrace the rising waves
let me fall
but promise to catch me in the end
scraped, bruised, and bloody
pick me up
promise me you’ll comfort me
hold me
and watch the sun set over the ocean
a perfect dream
a fairytale come true